


Dress Me Down

by silver9mm



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Blackmail, Conduit Fic, Dark, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, F/M, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jealous Jensen Ackles, M/M, Manipulation, Open Relationships, Sad, Threesome - F/M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:59:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3540473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver9mm/pseuds/silver9mm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were both looking at him. She was wide-eyed and he didn’t blame her even though she couldn’t see the razor-wire edge of Jared’s gaze. She put a hand out towards him, beckoning, and Jared laughed again, pressing his mouth against her neck and lifting her in his arms, wading away towards the steps. He heard his name, but they were both talking and he wasn’t sure who said it, and there was a wet patter of feet on concrete and then he was alone.</p><p>His back hurt where his spine had been mashed into the edge of the pool and he peeled away from it gingerly. Jensen took a deep breath, his mouth filled with Genevieve’s flavour, and decided he hated himself maybe even more than he hated her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dress Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Available by The National.  
> Soundtrack on [8tracks](https://8tracks.com/silver9mm/dress-me-down), on [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLuB2rGbcqG9k8wyRlHzM-ckOVcYnaHlxN)  
> 

They both watched him leave, but when the door closed behind him, Jensen kept looking, his gaze following the path he knew Jared would take around the side of the house that would lead him past the windows. Jensen’s lips parted and his tongue flicked out to wet them when Jared reappeared, stripped to his boxer briefs, his body all tanned skin and jumping muscle. He took a small running step and threw himself into the pool gracelessly, twisting in the air to splash down shoulder first, and Jensen smiled to himself. Always the playful kid, Jared.

Jensen knew Genevieve was staring at him but he ignored her for the moment, watching as Jared surfaced and rolled onto his back, floating and kicking idly. Jensen finished his beer before speaking.

“I can’t believe I let you take him away from me,” he said finally, and even though he was sure that was what he had wanted to say, his heart began to hammer in his chest.

“It wasn’t meant to be if he could _be_ taken away from you, Jen,” she shot back at him, and he wasn’t surprised she wasn’t surprised by what he had said. She was one of those unique girls who spoke rarely and always seemed to be watching the people around her, and Jensen had been around her a lot lately.

“Maybe he just replaced me with you. Maybe he just went with what was easy, _Gen_ ,” he sneered, banging his empty bottle on the table harder than he’d planned to.

“Fuck you!” she said, indignant, and tried to storm off, to brush past him and follow Jared, but Jensen grabbed her arm and his grip would leave bruises the next day.

“W-what about Danneel?” she stuttered, and Jensen knew she was trying to keep her voice from quivering. He laughed at her.

“Danni and I have an agreement, and she likes him almost as much as I do. She doesn’t know him like I do, though. I’ve spent more time with him in the last few years than I have with her.”

“So, what, you’re in love with him, is that what you’re telling me? Let _go_.” She tried to jerk free but he held on, digging in.

“Yeah, that is what I’m telling you. Maybe your version of loving someone is different than mine, and it includes oh, say, blowing Fiennes when you were filming that shitty sci-fi show last fall, but mine doesn’t, and from what I know about Jared—and I know a lot, sister—his ideal love affair doesn’t, either.”

“Why didn’t you fight for him if you want him so bad?” She tried not to whimper or squirm when Jensen’s jaw clenched and his fingers ground into her bones.

“Because of the way he looked at you, and the way _he_ looked when he did. You just soaked it up, smiling at him like an idiot.”

Her wide lips pulled down into a pout, but Jensen could only think of them wrapped around Jared’s cock. When she opened them to speak, Jensen spit into her mouth and then clapped his hand over it.

“Who tasted better, slut, Jared or that Englishman?”

She whined behind his hand and struggled, a bird in his palm. Jensen released her with a hard push towards the wall where she couldn’t be seen from the pool and stalked after her. She stumbled, her heel catching on the rug and Jensen thought about letting her fall, but he caught her arm again. She gave a little sob and her head did smack the wall, but not as hard as it might have.

“I guess you’ll never know,” she managed, and now her voice was strained, high and frightened, “unless I go out and suck him off right now and spit in _your_ mouth, you asshole. Huh? You wanna watch me play with his big dick and you can sit in here and fiddle with yourself? Fuck you! Jared’s not a fag, anyway. He’s not like you, pretty boy.”

Jensen’s lips twisted into a smile. “He kissed _me_ , actually. Two days— _two_ _fucking_ _days—_ before you showed up, he kissed me in front of Danni, and we laughed and I said he was just drunk and liked an audience, but he did it again later that night when she was asleep, and it was long, and good, and he said, ‘No, I just like you.’ He told me he loved me. And then he told me he was worried that it might ruin things for us—our friendship, the show, it could affect so many people if it went wrong, so we agreed to take it slow, to play it safe. He told me he loved me sixteen times in the next thirty hours, he said it like he was drowning and the words were dry land, and I knew if I pushed him, if I pursued him, I could have him, and I didn’t give a shit about it ruining anything for us. But I could tell he was terrified.”

Jensen let go of her arm and put a hand to her cheek, a brief caress before slipping it down to her throat and squeezing. Genevieve gasped, her eyes wide.

“And then _you_ came, and if I was the shore in the distance, you were a fucking log floating by that he could grab onto. The way he looked at you? That was pure relief, and I could see it so plainly.”

Jensen edged closer to her, pressing her into the wall, and lifted her, just barely, just enough to make her face flush and her hands grip his wrists. He let his native drawl slick his voice.

“Now, I could hate him for a coward, I could be offended that he was scared to love me. But I’m not. I know what it’s like, being where we’re from, how we were raised, the way people teased us growing up, and going away to ‘gay L.A.’. I know it’s hard. But I love him, and all I want is for him to be happy, and if you’re what makes him happy, what makes life easy for him where I would just make it hard, then that’s what I want for him.”

Genevieve blinked up at him, her cow’s eyes darting between his face and the door, looking for the lie, looking for a way to escape what she was hearing.

“So?” she whispered. “So _what?_ What’s your point?”

“My point is,” he adjusted his grip and now she couldn’t gasp at all, “you’re going to marry him without ever telling him about blowing that fucker a few months ago, or about this _conversation_ we’re having, without ever letting him know that you know he kissed me, or any of that. Most especially, you’re going to be utterly fucking faithful to him for the rest of your life, or I _will_ take him away from you.”

She tore at him, her face pink, dancing on her toes. Jensen held her there, ignoring the gouges she was putting in his hand and wrist. He held her there and hated her and when he finally let go, he stepped back and let her stagger to the side, let her catch herself this time. She coughed and sat down hard in the chair by the desk and glared up at him.

“You don’t think I can?” he asked, looking down at her.

“Fuck you,” she said again.

“That’s exactly what I had in mind, actually. Little girl, I am going to fuck the shit out of you, and you’re going to beg for it. You’re going to beg Jared to let me, and it will be my way of giving my blessing to him, of forgiving him for what he did when he kissed me and told me he loved me and then ‘fell in love with you’ two days later.”

“He does love me!”

“Just keep telling yourself that, _Gen_.”

“I won’t. You can’t make me.”

“Yes, I can and you will, because you want him and everything that comes with him, and because you don’t want me to tell him what I know about you or to remind him of all the other cunts that cheated on him. And you do _not_ want me to fight for him, because I _will_ win, or I can at least destroy the illusion he has about how he feels about you.”

Jensen straightened himself and his face transformed in the startling way that had made him famous. He smiled and his pale green eyes lit up somehow, his lips curled at the edges just enough to show his canines, giving him a wolfish look, and the tension disappeared from his body. He scruffed his hand through his short hair and leaned to look out the window. Jared was still in the pool, arms supporting himself on the edge as he kicked his long legs as hard as he could, sending up a huge spray of water. Jensen chuckled and without looking at her, said, “Bring us something to drink.”

He walked away from her, shedding his clothes as he went, knowing she would do everything he’d told her to do because she didn’t want the small part of the world that was theirs to hate her any more than it already did.

Jensen wasn’t sure _how_ this was going to play out, but he knew that it _would_.

“Dude! Heated pools in the snow are the shit!” Jared called out when he saw Jensen.

“Amazed there’s any water in it after that failed dive and all the splashing,” Jensen answered, grinning, and sent his own cascade of water everywhere as he plunged in heels first near Jared. The younger man slapped the water at Jensen’s face as he surfaced, but Jensen dodged it and paddled to his side. Jared eyed Jensen thoughtfully as he settled against the edge.

Jensen winked. “We were just talking about you for a minute, don’t worry. I had to grill her, as is my best friend’s right.”

“And?”

“Well, I think she actually likes you, as strange as that is. Good for you, man. She’s smart, she’s all into being active like you are... You guys will make cute kids.” Jensen kept his voice even and wished he’d brought another beer out to toast himself for it. He ducked under the water and torqued himself around a few times, coming up in front of Jared. “She’s a hot little thing, too.”

Jared snorted and smiled crookedly. He met Jensen’s eyes for the first time that day, and Jensen didn’t bother trying to hide how Jared’s hazel gaze on him made him shiver. He smiled back and let the water rock him closer to his friend.

“Danneel thinks so, too. Think she likes Gen even more than she likes you. We better keep an eye on them when they get drunk in the future. Danni can get pretty persuasive.”

Jared laughed outright now, but it was an agreeable laugh and he ducked his head down, letting his long, wet hair hide his face. Jensen took the opportunity to launch himself at Jared, like scaling a tree, and pushed off the wall with one foot, sending them both toppling over into the water. Even in the flurry of trying to find which way was up, Jensen felt Jared’s hands on him, on his ribs and his neck, and the touch was gentle, lingering. Jared spread his fingers and ran them up Jensen’s side and when he surfaced first, he held onto Jensen until they both had their feet under them.

“Jerk,” Jared coughed, his hand on Jensen’s back, hotter than the water rippling around them.

Jensen almost said, “Bitch,” but the word died in this throat when he saw Genevieve standing above them on the deck, naked, a bottle of white tequila in her hand. She looked like an amazon— _like a fucking queen_ , Jensen had to admit. She had a lovely face, really, if she didn’t talk. She didn’t, only smiled at Jared and jiggled the tequila at him. Her body was small, compact, strong. Well-muscled. Her shoulders were back, her spine arched, putting her round, brown tipped breasts on display, her soft belly bowed out, and Jensen followed the tiniest line of brown hair down from her stomach to a richly furred bush between her legs. He looked back up at her face, but she was watching her boyfriend— _her fiance, her soon-to-be-husband—_ Jensen reminded himself, and got angry all over again.

“Babe...” Jared mumbled. “What...why...”

“You wanna get your hand off his ass and help me into the pool?” she said, a wicked, teasing lilt to her voice Jensen had never heard before. Jared’s hand whipped away and Jensen backed up from the couple as Jared stood to his full height and grabbed Gen around the waist, lifting her off her feet and setting her gently down into the water. The pool was just deep enough where they were to cover her nipples as she lifted her arm to keep the bottle from getting wet. Jared was still gaping at her and Jensen could see every thought careening across his face. Lust, embarrassment, worry, possessiveness, they all plotted against each other in his eyes.

Jensen tried to tip the scale. “I was just telling Jared how much Danni seems to like you.”

Genevieve made a noncommittal noise and lowered herself until her nose was just above the water.

Jensen persisted. “I’m just sayin’, none of us are married _yet_... What’s a little making out between friends, right?” He chose to ignore the panicked twitch Jared’s whole body made, and wiggled his eyebrows at Genevieve. “She wears this lip gloss that, I swear, tastes just like strawberries. The good ones, little wild ones. Spends like—”

She raised herself up so the water was lapping at her chin. “I don’t like _girls_ , Jensen.”

“Oh, Danneel doesn’t, either. She just likes you,” he said to her, letting his gaze swing lazily to Jared.

Jared’s mouth fell open and Jensen was sure he even paled under his tan. He started to sputter something, a useless protest, but Jensen took control again, knowing that he had Jared in the palm of his hand now, that he could get him to go along with his gameplan if only to keep his own secret from Genevieve. Jensen felt a momentary pang of guilt, but he buried it. He felt guilty, Jared felt guilty, Genevieve better fucking feel guilty; he wanted Jared, Jared wanted him and Genevieve, Danni wouldn’t care about any of it other than she liked Jensen’s kinky side and was confident that Jensen loved her and belonged to her, first and foremost. So they were all in the same ballpark, if not playing by the same rules.

Jared was staring down at his girlfriend now, his mouth working but his brain obviously spinning too fast for him to catch up. Jensen could see the pulse pounding in his throat when he raked his hair back from his face, a nervous habit Jensen knew too well, one Jared used to buy himself time to think. Jensen meant to keep him off balance. He turned his attention back to Genevieve, who seemed to actually be waiting for his prompt.

He laughed, low in his throat. Not his usual head-back belly laugh, but something that sounded sinister, even to himself. “Don’t let him tell you otherwise! He likes girl-on-girl as much as the next guy. Ask him.”

Genevieve’s eyes were cold and she lingered down in the water just long enough Jensen thought maybe he’d been wrong, but at the last moment she twirled and put her arm around Jared, floating and bouncing so he had to move with her, towards Jensen at the side of the pool.

“That the truth, babe? Wanna see Danni put some lip gloss on me? You know, I’d do it if you wanted me to. If you’re into it. I’d do anything for you, Jared.”

He let her maneuver him, but found his voice finally when his arm brushed Jensen’s as he leaned back into his spot beside him. “I don’t—I mean, I haven’t thought about that exactly...”

“Hoho, so then what _exactly_?” she teased.

She suddenly looked interested in what Jensen was making her do, he thought. When Jared opened his mouth to answer, she pushed off the bottom and slithered up his long body, wrapping her arm around his neck and hanging off of him as she took her thumb from the tequila bottle and poured some into his mouth. He gulped automatically, but she kept pouring until it trickled out of the corners and down his cheeks and neck and Jensen was suddenly hard.

Genevieve laughed and dropped into the water, but Jared grabbed her, making her squeak as his hand dug into her hair and he pulled her head back and spit half the liquor into her mouth. Jensen barked another villainous laugh. Genevieve coughed but managed to swallow most of the tequila, her face red and her eyes watering. Jared chuckled too, finally, and Jensen felt the tension lift. If he could get Jared laughing, relaxed...

“What about me, sister?” Jensen asked.

She waded to him and tilted the bottle against his lips, more careful than she had been with Jared, but she still filled his mouth up and some poured over his lips when he closed them against the stream. Genevieve put a hand on his chest and pushed herself back a little and her mouth opened. Jensen felt his cock twitch as he tucked his bottom lip into his teeth and forced a practiced, precise stream at her. She put her tongue out and tilted her head, sinking down to catch the tequila and her hand came out of the water, her fingers fluttering as the water threatened to float her out of reach. Jensen took her hand in his and held her steady until the stream petered out and he swallowed what was left as she grinned at him. He didn’t let go of her hand.

Jared shifted beside him and he looked up. _Seething_ was the word that came to Jensen’s mind, but it wasn’t with anger. Jared’s eyes had narrowed and his breathing was slow and even, each breath flaring his nostrils as his chest expanded.

“You know what I’d like to see?” Genevieve said, her voice shrill, and her fingers curled around Jensen’s hard enough to hurt. “I wanna see you two make out!”

The words were barely out of her mouth when Jensen jerked on her hand, pulling her off balance and under the water. He grabbed for the tequila bottle, but she managed to cap it with her thumb and wriggle free of his grip, and back-peddled, surfacing just out of range. She floated onto her back and kicked away from them, laughing.

“What? I said I’d do anything for _you_!” she taunted. “You won’t do anything for me? I’d do anything for Jensen, too, if Jared wanted.” She stood in the shallow end, the water lapping around her belly button. “Jensen wonders what you see in me. I don’t want anything to come between you and him, you know that right? I don’t want anyone to resent me. I don’t want him to think I’m trying to take you away, Jared.” Her eyes were on Jensen as she said the words, and Jensen knew she was almost in tears, could hear it in her voice, see it in the colour of her cheeks.

“Anything,” she repeated. “Just have to ask.”

Jared was still silent, and Jensen bobbed in the water, watching him process. He waited between the two lovers, his body facing Genevieve and he was sure she could see his arousal if she wanted to, but he turned his head slowly, minutely, and peered from under his lashes at Jared. His friend was chewing his cheek, his palms resting on the surface of the water and from the years he’d spent watching him, covertly or not, Jensen knew Jared’s mind was made up, he was only waiting for the opportunity to strike. That was his way and Jensen loved it. There was almost no warning if you weren’t watching him closely, which is why his practical jokes and his rages came as such a surprise to people who didn’t know him.

“If we’re asking nicely here, I’d like to ask for an actual drink,” Jensen said to Genevieve, still watching Jared.

He backed up to his place next to Jared and put his hand out for the bottle when she was near enough. She smiled sweetly, ignored his hand and slipped up against him, her body chill from the cool air, but when she opened her legs and straddled his thigh, _there_ she was hot. She lifted the bottle and Jensen put his arm around her as she filled her own mouth this time. She bounced off the bottom of the pool once and then was up in his arms and her lips were on his. Her tequila-spiced tongue pushed his mouth open and then the liquor flooded his throat. He put a hand to the back of her head and pushed her hard against him, sealing their lips to keep from spilling while he swallowed. When she struggled, he let her go. Gen slid to her feet and turned to Jared, the bottle at her lips. He lifted her by her waist and opened his mouth as she wrapped her legs around him, her ass cheeks spreading just enough for Jensen to glimpse the dark cleft hidden there. He wanted to reach out and run his fingers along her spine, down to that warm, wet spot, but he didn’t. Not yet.

Genevieve moved her head back, her mouth empty. She put one small hand on Jared’s face and her voice was a purr when she spoke. “I only want you, and I’ll do _anything_ you want to prove it.” She kissed him before he could answer and then took another mouthful of tequila and Jensen tensed, seeing what was coming.

Jared grunted, the first sound he’d made in a long while, and he thrust his fiancee at Jensen. He caught her, hand back at her head, pulling her mouth to his, swallowing what she gave him hungrily. The tequila was swapped, spilt, drooled down their bodies. She was hanging off Jensen, her hips undulating against his stomach, that fire between her legs burning him. Jared wrenched the bottle from her hand and took a long swallow. Jensen saw because he never closed his eyes, not on Jared, not yet. He could drown them both if he wanted to, and something on the big man’s face made him think that had as much of a chance of happening as anything else.

Jared tossed the near-empty bottle over his shoulder and reached for Genevieve, and Jensen thought about dying, but Jared merely lifted her higher so Jensen had to grab her by her thighs. Jared went to his knees in the water, his hands holding her up under her ass, his fingers splayed wide and touching Jensen’s, and then Genevieve arched her back, her breasts in Jensen’s face. He latched onto her, sucked hard on the soft flesh, wanting to bruise her more, to leave marks on her body the way she’d done to his heart.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she moaned and Jensen moved his mouth to the outside of her breast to bruise her there and to see Jared. He couldn’t, at least not much of him, and he grinned to himself, nipping her with his teeth, remembering the night him and Jared had gotten into that bar fight. Before Jensen had pissed off some locals, they’d been swilling Molson’s and Jared had been insisting, leaning across the table, so close Jensen could feel warm breath on his face, could smell the barbecue sauce that mixed somehow almost sensually with the beer on his tongue, that fucking a girl’s ass is like _owning_ her.

“Not just any girl, you know? But a _nice_ girl, one that wouldn’t ask for that, at least not the first few times. One you’d have to do some sweet-talkin’ to. When a girl like that lets you in, and you do it right, god, it’s like you’ve taken her apart! The way she just goes limp, and you know it feels good, better than it probably feels to us, and she pushes her ass up, just wanting, and you know she’s yours.”

He had looked so young, Jensen remembered, all puppy-dog enthusiasm and glee, long-limbed, so thin Jensen could get an arm around his waist with room to spare. Flushed, buzzed, babbling happily, conspiratorially, and Jensen listened to him with only half an ear, blood rushing. He was hard under the table, his mind in turmoil, images flooding too fast to focus on, his friend naked in every one of them, himself the one that was arching under him, wanting to be fucked, wanting Jared to own him, wanting to fall apart under him.

A rush of water brought Jensen back. Genevieve gasped as Jared stood, water cascading off of him. Jensen let his teeth scrape over her flesh as Jared pushed against them both, knocking his mouth free from her breast. She was protesting, twisting in Jensen’s arms, and he knew why when he felt Jared rut against her, his cock free and prodding between her legs, hitting Jensen in the stomach.

“Baby, stop! Jared!”

“No,” he said, growled really, and then he laughed, and it was a sound almost frightening to Jensen, so unfamiliar, and he was afraid to look up at him.

Gen squealed and the way her body shifted and her weight changed, Jensen knew Jared was inside her, and his mouth watered and his knees almost gave. The edge of the pool digging into his back as Jared pinned him against it, his fiancee between them, was all that kept him standing, from dropping and opening his mouth, from begging Jared to fuck his face like he was fucking her, with slow, short thrusts.

“Stop!” she cried again. “Not out here, baby, please!”

She was ripped away, and Jensen felt cold. Jaw slack, cock aching, his heart worse, he could only stare dumbly as Jared backed up, holding Gen by one wrist, his other hand cupping her breast, his thumb moving over the marks Jensen had made. They were both looking at him. She was wide-eyed and he didn’t blame her even though she couldn’t see the razor-wire edge of Jared’s gaze. She put a hand out towards him, beckoning, and Jared laughed again, pressing his mouth against her neck and lifting her in his arms, wading away towards the steps. He heard his name, but they were both talking and he wasn’t sure who said it, and there was a wet patter of feet on concrete and then he was alone.

His back hurt where his spine had been mashed into the edge of the pool and he peeled away from it gingerly. Jensen took a deep breath, his mouth filled with Genevieve’s flavour, and decided he hated himself maybe even more than he hated her.

_God, please don’t let Jared hate me._

He was stalling, he knew that, toeing around the pool for the empty liquor bottle, and he cursed himself.

_You’re the fucking coward. Selfish. Jealous. So fucking jealous. Gotta follow through now, asshole, don’t you?_

“Fuck.”

He ducked under the water and collected the bottle. He’d never liked ‘evidence’; those things found the morning after, the reminders of rushed decisions and gut-burning desires, wrong moves.

Trailing only the tiniest of wakes across the pool, wondering if Jared was watching _him_ now, he followed their wet prints towards the house. He scuffed his toe on the concrete as he placed the bottle next to the sliding door, and the glass under his palm was warm when he touched it for balance.

A damp towel was on the counter and he made it soggy before carefully hanging it flat over the edge. Jared’s underwear was puddling the floor next to Genevieve’s dress, the double x’s of the brand visible, and there was nothing to be done but add his own to the pile. He was soft again, the cold having quickly won the battle, but a low laugh from the other room said the war wasn’t over. He looked down at himself, at his swelling cock, at his trembling hands, at his frozen feet.

_Five years of wanting. Lust, love, fuck, do I love him, waiting in there for you. Finish what you started._

He moved.

Jared was sitting on the couch, his legs open, arms at his side, chin up, eyes closed. Genevieve was kneeling before him and almost struggling with his huge cock, her mouth stretched around it, both hands working the left-over length, and he wanted to rip her the fuck off of him and do it better, or— _fuck it, you can share, can’t you? Take turns. There’s enough of that big dick for both of us, swap the come as a prize_ —

“Jensen, c’mere,” Jared said.

He did as he was told, approaching slowly, one hand loosely stroking his cock just for something to do, to hide his nervousness. He’d wanted to be in control of this, but somehow it was slipping away. He just about went to his knees but Jared moved his leg, indicating the seat next to him. He sat down. Too close on any other day; his arm slid all the way down Jared’s from shoulder to wrist, their hands almost overlapped. Almost. When he moved his arm back to brace himself, Jared’s elbow was in his ribs, and he inhaled just to feel the pressure of the other man against him.

Jared’s eyes were closed, or maybe he was peering down at Genevieve, but Jensen took the opportunity to look at him. Naked. Hard and long and perfect— _he is so perfect._ Had filled out that impossibly lanky frame over the years, corded it with heavy muscle, padded it with just enough fat, and Jensen wanted to touch him, wanted to feel that butter soft skin over iron, wanted to dig in and find the bones that held him up, feel the pulsing blood, wanted to go deeper and find Jared’s soul and caress it, worship it, thank it for animating this man who was everything to him.

Genevieve hummed, her mouth full, her fingers wet, and Jensen took a delayed breath and her eyes met his.

“She can do this—watch,” Jared said, and his hand rumpled her damp hair.

Knowing what was expected, she pushed onto her knees, arched her back, lowered her head, and she had to be part goddamn snake like Jensen cursed her as to open her jaw enough to do what she doing. She put her hand on Jared’s knee and his cock was as thick as her wrist. Thicker. Jared coaxed her forward, hair twirled around his fingers, and he said, “Open,” when her eyes squeezed shut, when the rim of his dick nudged the back of her throat. She blinked up at him obediently, and he pushed, reaching with his free hand to feel her throat. Jared grinned and looked at Jensen, looked at his mouth, at his neck, and Jensen swallowed automatically.

Genevieve coughed, gagged. Sputtered, and Jared moaned. She was still moving, gulping him down until her nose was in his pubic hair. He spread his legs and Jensen would’ve had to move to another cushion to avoid his touch. He didn’t move. He let Jared rub against him, let him look, smile; wanted to lean over and lick that fucking leer right off his face.

No, he wasn’t in control. Not at all. Never had been. Jared was always the one in charge, and it drove Jensen crazy, made him feel reckless and greedy— _and fuck, no wonder Jared had wanted to take it easy between us at first, and no wonder he decided it wasn’t a good idea._ Jensen’s face heated and his stomach ached with the realisation that he’d probably driven Jared off, toward Genevieve, because he’d been so eager, so willing to throw everything away.

He found himself staring at Jared’s leg leaning against his. Gen was moving on the other side of it, drooling as she sucked off her fiance, the man Jensen loved, and he wanted to run. Suddenly, he didn’t want what was happening. Didn’t deserve it.

“Fuck.”

Jared laughed and bumped him, and Genevieve was hoisted up by one arm and dragged, her soft breasts and damp hands on Jensen now, and then her mouth, and he felt the slightest graze of teeth on his dick and gasped. She peered up at him, glaring, tongue out, and she had him in her throat all at once.

She was wet velvet, warm, and even though he wasn’t as big as Jared— _god he seriously has a monster cock—_ Genevieve’s cheeks still turned a lovely shade of rose as she choked on Jensen, and the tightness of her throat hadn’t been compromised in the least by Jared’s girth. His friend’s fingers brushed her hair back from her shoulders, Jared’s slender, beautiful hands winding through it, dancing down her spine as he moved onto his knees behind her. Jensen wanted to pull him back, missed him. Even with just the small body of a woman between them, Jared was too far away, and the distance would only ever increase every moment after this one.

Jared was smiling at him, and Jensen couldn’t care anymore that he had been caught staring. Jared deserved to know that he was gorgeous. He tucked a strand of hair behind one ear, his clever eyes narrow and twinkling, and he winked at Jensen before bringing one hand sharply down on Genevieve’s ass. Jensen felt her react, felt her throat work as she tried to gasp, and her mouth flooded with saliva.

“Good girl,” Jared crooned and slapped her again. “So fucking wet.” His fingers disappeared for a moment, and when he spanked her, they left damp spots, glistening over the red welts. “Love sucking cock, don’t you? C’mon, show him how good you are, how much you like it.”

He smacked her again, and then again until she moaned, and when she did, Jared reached up and pushed her head down over Jensen’s cock.

“ _Fuck_.” It was all Jensen could manage, on edge already. He was as deep as he could go, he _had_ to be, but when Jared slapped Gen’s ass again, as easy as breathing (which he never really understood how women did when they were deep-throating) she swallowed his cock until there was no more to be had. Moving with the rhythm of Jared’s blows she fucked him with her mouth, and he loved it. Loved Jared hitting her, hurting her, and somehow loved that she enjoyed it. It proved something to him, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around just what it was, but it made her _just-right_. For Jared. He’d always known Jared had this in him. Had a ferocious side, a dominance to him. It came out especially when Jared was depressed. He would become forceful: asking, cajoling, then demanding Jensen do what Jared wanted to do, be it drink, play video games, work out, and Jensen had learned to let him win, to let Jared get him too drunk, too tired and sore, that it gave Jared the sense of control he needed, the attention and relief that kept him from spiraling down, from getting quiet and withdrawn. Jensen had wondered if it would show itself this way. Hell, he’d jerked off more than once _hoping_ that it would, that Jared could even be a little sadistic, that he’d push him around, force him to his knees, that he’d use Jensen to make himself feel better, to feel anything, whatever he wanted. Jensen would give it.

He almost came. The only thing that kept him from it was trying to ask to trade places with Genevieve. He formed the sentence, found his voice, opened his mouth. He thought about Jared’s face after the words were said, and not being able to decide if Jared would be pleased or pissed off at him kept him from saying it, kept his balls in check.

Jared, his fingers buried inside Gen, moving fast enough to vibrate her whole body around Jensen’s cock, used his other hand to sweep her hair off her face. He leaned around to watch her, encouraging her.

“That’s it, baby, suck that cock. My beautiful little slut. I love you. Gonna let me fuck your ass, aren’t you?”

Genevieve didn’t respond, but she didn’t protest. Jared had a look on his face Jensen remembered, and he understood now why Jared had been so eager to fight that night at the bar. All that energy had to go somewhere. Jensen would have been more than happy to have been the outlet, fucking or fighting, but he hadn’t known Jared well enough then to tap into this, but the instant Jensen had needed him, Jared had been there, breaking his hand on some guy’s face, and Jensen got lightheaded realising Genevieve could have easily turned this night around on him.

“Gonna let him fuck you, too?”

Her throat was a mile long as she pulled away. Eyes wet, face streaked, she looked up at Jensen like she could read his mind, as if she had already thought about what she could say to get Jared to punch him.

“Uh huh. Please…”

And Jensen knew he’d barely escaped.

Jared was on his feet, reaching for Gen, but she ignored him. She put her hands on Jensen’s thighs and used him to get to her feet, and he thought she was going to climb into his lap and fuck him right there, that she was going to kiss him, and it was the latter that terrified him for some reason. He loved to kiss. Loved the enforced silence, the touch and taste and smell involved, that it was something both partners had to think about—it wasn’t as mindless as fucking. The same pleasure circuit was involved, but it was more deliberate, more personal. You could fuck most anyone with the same moves, but kissing was something that had to be personalised, and he wanted to shove her off of him when she put a hand behind his neck rather than let her be so intimate.

When Jared had kissed him the first time in front of Danneel, it had been closed-mouthed, beer-slicked lips pressed firmly against his for a five-second eternity. Jensen hadn’t even shut his eyes, staring at Jared’s flushed face, shocked. He hadn’t kissed him back, but he hadn’t withdrawn, and Jared had looked very pleased with himself afterwards, laughing as Danni teased him. He’d kissed her, too, come to think of it, but it had been a peck to the side of her mouth, and she’d been looking at Jensen while he did it, one of her eyebrows arched knowingly. The next kiss was nothing so chaste. It had been just the two of them standing in the kitchen, and Jensen had known it was going to happen by the way Jared had watched nothing but his lips for ten minutes. He’d moved like he was stalking Jensen, coming at him slowly, relaxed and undeniable, and he’d caught Jensen’s face in his hands. Jensen kept his own hands on the counter behind him, selfishly wanting Jared’s touch without return, without giving. Mouths together, Jensen had opened to the kiss first, and Jared’s tongue had filled the space immediately, wide and thick and sweet, like Jensen knew the hard cock pressing over his would be when he finally had his mouth around it. Jared liked to kiss slowly, to hold their mouths together carefully, without moving, to use his tongue to dig deep, to fight with Jensen’s. He liked to lick: over teeth, around the back of molars, sweeping inside, over lips and tongue—

“Please?” he heard again. Jensen blinked, Jared’s face the only thing in focus, standing behind Genevieve, his hands on her hips, his lips hidden in her hair, his eyes tilted with a smile. She pulled at Jensen, her hand on the back of his neck, and he let them drag him up, Jared moving her down the hall to their bedroom, Jensen trailing beside her, her touch having slid down his arm, catching his thumb in her fingers. She let go when they entered the room and he faltered, everything now just a little blurred. Jared ushered Genevieve by him to the bed, and Jensen was glad he felt like he had a mild concussion, that things were fuzzy, when Jared pressed her backwards, his mouth on hers, kissing her exactly how he liked to kiss. Jensen closed his eyes.

A rattle and a plastic pop opened them. Jared had a small bottle in his hand for the one second it took to pour a dollop of lube in his palm, then he dropped it on the floor and Jensen heard the sticky slide of palm on cock, and then Gen’s squeak as wet fingers found her and pushed inside. She was on her knees and elbows, wiggling to accept two long fingers. Jared was moving too fast, and she tossed her head, hair flying, hips jumping to ease the pain.

“Shh shh shh,” Jared soothed, “you can take it. Gonna take it, take us both.”

“Oh god,” she whined, and Jensen wondered absently what was it about the excited reluctance in her voice that made his cock jump.

His feet moved him closer as Jared climbed onto the bed with her. She tried to turn but his palm was between her shoulder blades, and she went down under the pressure. Ass up, back bent, she went as still as stone when she felt Jared’s cock slip over her pussy and higher, nudging between her cheeks. Jared’s cock was fat and glistening and red, and a hand to his mouth was all that kept Jensen from moaning in unison with Genevieve when the head of it opened her and disappeared. She let out a shuddering breath into the mattress, blankets bunched tight in her fists. Jared was all dimples and sweat and patience, and there was a long minute of stillness where the only movement in the room was Jensen’s eyes flicking between Jared’s cock and perfect face, and though it seemed like nothing changed, suddenly a breath exploded from Jared’s chest and the length of him disappeared into her. He withdrew almost completely, adjusted his knees wider, and jerked her back onto him. Her fists brought the blankets down with her, her cheek to the material, and Jensen could see her eyes were open, wide and sightless.

Over and over, Jared shoved her back and forth and Jensen found his hand on his own cock, mimicking the rhythm. If Jared had not stopped, had fucked her in front of him for the next hour, he wouldn’t have complained. He could have easily slipped inside of his imagination, traded places with the silent girl at Jared’s mercy, in his hands, around his cock, could’ve come over and over imagining himself there, and he spread his own legs, steadying himself for just that, but Jared wasn’t going to let him.

A final slam of her ass into his hips and Jared wound his arms around Genevieve and lifted her, plucked her up like a flower from the earth, and rolled them both onto their backs, hers against his chest, his to the bed. He slipped out as they shifted, and she stayed open, her ass slick and leaking and stretched wide for a few moments until Jared reached down and stuffed himself back inside her. He brought his legs together and pulled hers apart, and this time Jensen needed no invitation, no prompting.

This was what he’d come here for. _This_ was as close as he was going to get to fucking Jared, and in his fantasies, his pissed off, jealous, twisted fantasies that he’d come in the night over, come on himself, thought about while he was fucking Danneel, while he was driving, eating, acting, drunk, so many times when he’d been drunk, drinking the only thing between Genevieve and now that had dulled the ache inside him, in his fantasies, knowing he’d never get closer than this, he’d planned and practiced and this was his one chance.

He kneed across the foot of the bed. The couple in front of him were pornography embodied, were filthy-hot, and his. For the moment. He had to take Genevieve to get Jared, and that was good enough, close enough. Jared had his hands gripping her thighs, keeping her legs wide, his slightly bent knees giving him just enough purchase to bounce her on his cock. A length of it was outside of her, but he was so big there was more than enough filling her, and Jensen added to it. He palmed her exposed pussy briefly, like cupping an ember, and then slipped his fingers into her. She didn’t react, but she was trying not to, he could tell. Her head was back, face tilted away from him towards Jared, ignoring Jensen for all she was worth.

_Let her try._

He twisted his fingers inside her, searching, finding, Jared’s cock separated from him by just a thin veil of flesh, and he spread his fingers so Jared was slipping between the vee of them. There was no ignoring that, and her reaction only drove Jared further into her, gave Jensen more of him to stroke. Bucking, feet kicking in the air, she arched and took them both in deeper. Jensen thought about reaching inside her completely and stroking Jared off, her body as a glove. But the part of his brain that was still managing some anger, still feeling hostility towards her, that wanted to punish her for something she had nothing to do with was being overridden by sheer lust. Faced with a wet, warm, naked woman in front of him, a gorgeous man beneath her, presenting her, offering her to him, how the hell could he keep his grievances in order?

She gasped when she felt his cock against her body, but he felt it more than heard, one hand on her belly, the other guiding himself into her. How she could keep silent Jensen couldn’t fathom and he blushed, absurdly embarrassed to even imagine the noises he would be making in her place, Jared so thick inside him. To be able to take another cock—

Jared must have seen her face, or felt her body tense, heard something as she was closer to him than Jensen, because he suddenly pushed her up, palms on her back, into Jensen’s arms. The movement seated her completely, to the hilt, onto Jared’s cock, and she slipped like a silken sheath over Jensen. He caught her, an arm around her ribs, but she brushed him away, bringing her own hands up and lacing them behind his neck. Their eyes met for one second, and he remembered his threat, his promise to her, and any hope he had that she would renege, that she would mess up, that she would give him an in, shattered completely. He wanted to cry, he wanted to kill her, hurt her, beg Jared, run away, but that other part of his brain took over completely.

She closed her eyes as he started to move, thrusting his hips in short, sharp movements that jarred the bed, forced Jared’s legs straight between his thighs as he spread his own and ground into her. Whether she was virgin-tight or that Jared was taking up most of the room in her body didn’t matter except for what it was doing to Jensen’s self-control.

Limp between them, Gen’s arms wound around Jensen’s neck, her forehead pressed against his shoulder. She could look down between their bodies and see herself spread open for them, full, but her eyes were still closed. Jensen was just glad she wasn’t looking at him, that she wouldn’t see he’d lost his rage somewhere along the way. He’d weakened, he was confused. He was in love and hurt and aching and doubting and debasing them all with his guilt and desperation.

He had his arms behind him, holding his body away from them, ostensibly so he could see. He could get away with that, with not touching her because he hated her, because he didn’t trust his hands not to find Jared amongst all the flesh, but when Jared groaned, when Jensen finally, truly, got what he wanted, when he knew that Jared felt what he could have had, that he’d lain every last bit of himself out— _even though Jared made it very obvious he doesn’t want any of it—_ he had to touch something, someone. She was the only one there. Jared was too far away, would always be just out of reach now.

Jensen buried his hands in her heavy, soft hair, and his face into it next, knowing that he would always smell her; whenever Jared was near him, she would be there, too.

She squeaked, her mouth against his ear, and he could hear her finally, tiny gasps and whimpers escaping her throat, and he wanted her to scream. He twisted lower, pulling her hair away and sinking his teeth into the flesh of her neck behind the point of her jaw, but he didn’t get the sound he wanted. Her body tensed, her cunt clamping down impossibly around him, and her arms dropped away. Her head moved, offering more of her neck to him, but then she was gone. Jensen blinked, licking his lips at the salty-sweetness of her, his hands on her hips for balance, to keep from falling forward as Jared pulled her back. He had Genevieve by her biceps, and it wasn’t until she struggled against Jared that Jensen realised it was just like how he’d held her when she was Ruby, when Sam was behind her, holding her so Dean could slam her own knife into her body. He was doing it again. He had to know, he must know. Jensen had more than once drunkenly fantasised the props had been switched and the brown-eyed bitch who had stolen Jared away from him had been gutted by his hand.

Now, he was alone with this memory, this desire, and he would open himself up rather than take away Jared’s happiness, if that’s what she was. Anything for Jared.

Jensen moved his hands to her thighs, bending her knees up higher, spreading her wide. He could see his cock slithering over Jared’s, the wet mess of Genevieve’s pleasure glossing them, and he pushed his hips down to feel the friction of Jared’s body against his, just this once, only this time.

“Fuck. Jen.”

There was no proof Jared had called out his name and not hers. Head twisted back, his spine bowed up even with the weight of both of them on him, his fingers digging white into Genevieve’s flesh, bottom lip caught between his teeth, eyes shut tight, Jensen knew Jared was close. It wasn’t a competition. There was no reason to try to outlast each other or break Genevieve between them. He had no real idea of the passage of time, just that he was breathing hard and Jared was sweating and Gen was clawing his thighs the way Danneel would when she was overstimulated and he’d drank too much and snorted too much coke and was thinking too much about Jared and she just wanted him to quit.

Jensen just wanted Jared to look at him, to meet his eyes as he came, but _her_ eyes were on him, glazed.

Her mouth open, anger gone from her face; no longer smug, or frightened, she was looking at Jensen like she understood him. Like she could see him, see inside him, see his fear and heartache and shame and desire, and she could forgive him. Like she could love him. She could welcome him, or even step back and let him, give to him—

Stars burst in his vision, greyed the edges, and pleasure lanced through him from groin to the back of his skull, splitting him open, and Jared was laughing, shaking the bed. Genevieve whined, gasping as she held Jensen up, arms free, her hands on his chest, keeping him from crushing her between them.

The face she made when his cock slipped free made him want to kiss her. Jared was still giggling, hips moving in a staccato rhythm, bouncing his fiancee as he ran his hands over her body. She was limp, sprawled across Jared’s chest, her dark eyes on Jensen, her lips unkissed. Jared’s caress slipped up her ribs to her breasts, fingers plucking idly at her nipples, and then he gripped her throat as his other hand plunged down between her legs. She made a noise and her thighs snapped shut, but Jared wouldn’t be denied. His wrist bent and half his hand disappeared with a loud, wet sound, and Jensen felt his cheeks burn and his cock twitched absently against his leg as Jared brought his now-sticky fingers to Genevieve’s mouth and forced them in. When she closed her lips, sucking, expressionless, Jared stopped laughing, and with that lightning fast motion that was always startling to Jensen, he flipped Genevieve off onto the mattress, on her back, and was over her in an instant.

She said 'no' more than once, had been saying it from the beginning if Jensen was honest with himself, but Jared didn’t heed her any more than either of them had before now. His knees hit the floor with a thump and Jensen only caught a glimpse of his thick cock, glistening, still hard and oozing come, and then Jared was bellied up to the side of the bed, his mouth over Genevieve’s cunt, and he made no effort to pretend he wasn’t lapping Jensen’s come out of her. She pushed at his face, tugged at his hair, but he only hummed against her and hooked her knees with his hands, rolling her ass off the bed so he could run his tongue from her asshole to her clit and she flailed when he latched on there, tilting his head and sucking hard. One of her hands found Jensen’s leg and she splayed her fingers wide, seeking. Trained by another woman, he caught it up and laced his own through hers. She made a low, helpless noise and turned her face to his, looking lost, splintered, and when she whimpered again he leaned over and kissed her. She still tasted like tequila, like the world the way it was before this had happened. Before he had done this.

He half expected her to bite his tongue, to add physical pain to the turmoil inside, but she opened instead. Her mouth went wide and loose and her tongue lashed along the underside of his, coaxing him further inside of her.

He loved to kiss. He had always done it impulsively, since his very first one as a child. He’d kissed Jared many times after Jared had kissed him. In their trailers, in the car, even on set, hopefully hidden, and each time Jared had seemed surprised, had jumped. He’d never pulled away. He’d smiled against Jensen’s lips, had put his large, warm hands on his face, cupped his cheeks and kissed him back, and Jensen wanted more than anything else in existence to feel that one more time. Gen tasted like Jared under the tequila. She would always smell like him, taste like him, and Jensen was just buzzed enough to pretend. It was Jared’s wide tongue in his mouth with its curious divot at the tip, and the way Jared was kissing Genevieve’s body below, making it surge and pulse beneath his, in time with the kiss, secured the illusion. At the most, she was a conduit, a thin screen separating the lovers, and Jensen kissed her to get to Jared, and he knew, _just knew_ , Jared was doing the same.

Fucking her mouth with his tongue, licking her teeth, his hand fisted in her hair close to her scalp, Jensen kissed Jared for all the times he would never be able to. Years worth of kissing, a lifetime. They were making noises, he and Gen, but to Jensen it was all him; his pleasure and surrender to Jared, his love and affection coming out in whimpers and moans, and when Genevieve cried out, arching up, pulling Jensen hard against her mouth as she came, that was his, too, and he swallowed it down, taking it from her and keeping it, just this once, this one orgasm as something Jared had done to _him_.

Jared was moving at the end of the bed, but Genevieve kept her hand on the back of Jensen’s head, was still kissing him, almost sobbing into his mouth, so Jensen only heard the nightstand being knocked about and then the odd sound of water pouring on the floor. He didn’t want to let go when Jared pulled and Gen was dragged away, but Jared would never draw _him_ in like that. They would pretend fight and hug as brothers and get in each other’s faces close enough to kiss, but none of it would be real.

He was alone, half-hard again and on his side, Genevieve on his lips and drying on his cock and Jared was acting like he wasn’t even there at all. He had Gen on her knees like he was, back on the bed now. Behind her, he held her up, looking for all the world like he wanted to tear her apart with his hands. Squeezing, clawing, raking his teeth over neck and shoulder and cheek, Jared was devouring her, and Jensen refused to let his mind play at what he would do himself under that assault. He merely watched. Genevieve wasn’t fighting back, but she was struggling, her little body snapping and curling, moving around like petals in a windstorm, guarding herself, guiding Jared to new a place when he dug too deep in another.

It was amazing, Jensen had to admit, what women could deal with. What they put up with, what they encouraged even, from their lovers. His own beautiful, delicate Danneel begged him, commanded him, to do his worst. To fuck her like his life depended on it, to bruise her and own her and use her, and then she could bounce out of bed while he was lying there, crippled and panting, and walk off smiling as if he hadn’t just bent her in half, knees to ears, as if blood wasn’t mingled with his come on her thighs. Genevieve might not recover so quickly as all that, but she was holding her own. Her head was thrown back against Jared’s shoulder, eyes closed, her lips split by three of his fingers. Fucking them in and out of her mouth, he was doing the same between her legs, spreading her open, his palm full of her come and Jensen’s, and he realised Jared was watching him.

He couldn’t help flinching. Jared’s eyes, gone an amber colour Jensen hadn’t thought existed outside of a gemstone, were fixed on his face, and if anyone was in pain, it appeared to be him. Upper lip pulled back from his teeth, a glare drawing his brows down, he stared at Jensen, and Jensen wished he would stop.

For years, all he’d seemed to want was Jared. Wanted his companionship, his presence, his touch, kisses, his cock, and love. He’d been scared of wanting and had done nothing, and suddenly he knew he was right; he’d ruined it even before it had begun. He’d waited too long, been too much the coward. If he’d done something, anything, sooner… And by doing this _now_ , forcing this moment out of anger and lust and frustration, he’d hurt Jared. Accused him somehow, made him pay a debt he didn’t owe and had used Genevieve to collect. When he left, he’d planned on feeling righteous and justified. Now, looking back at Jared looking at him, understanding, he thought it would be better to crawl.

Jared’s body twisted, and Gen gasped, loud and pleasure filled. Pushed forward, she went to her hands just inches from Jensen, and rather than cry like he wanted to, he closed his eyes and kissed her again, hiding from Jared. She was whimpering, moans and whines, breaking away from him to cry out only to turn her face up and coax him back to her lips again. Her body was thumping against his, Jared behind her, inside her, claiming her back from Jensen. He caressed her face, praying she could taste him begging for forgiveness. Jared thrust harder, knocking them apart, and she almost collapsed, but Jensen pulled her against his shoulder, her open mouth on his neck, his hand in her hair.

A hand on his wrist, and he had to look back up at Jared. The grip was tight, inescapable. One hand on Gen’s hip, holding her still, the other pulled, and Jensen went. To his knees, face to face with Jared. Genevieve had him swallowed down without being told to, like she _wanted_ to do it finally, and it was Jensen’s turn to hiss, overstimulated, but she had him solid again with a dozen long, slick drags of her mouth along his cock. Jared wouldn’t let go, even when Jensen tugged— _and why the fuck do I want to get away, anyway?_

Genevieve couldn’t see, didn’t know. Jared bucked his hips, his body moving like a wave, and Jensen was transfixed. Caught in Jared’s hand and down the throat of his soon-to-be-wife, his life split irrevocably into before-Jared and after-Jared, the future stretching ahead of him laced with this man and the thought of everything that could have been—

Jared must have seen it on his face, in his eyes, saw his mouth open to say it, and stopped him. Squeezed his wrist, hard, and a pained huff came from Jensen’s throat instead. Smirking, the anger hidden behind amusement, Jared brought their hands down, forced Jensen to lean forward, his palm on Genevieve’s back, wrist still corralled, bringing him so close to Jared’s body he could smell the cologne and the chlorine and salt sweat, and when Jared bent his head his damp hair brushed Jensen’s cheek. Genevieve squirmed, holding them both up, Jensen’s belly pressed against her face to the point she had to turn her head to breathe, but he was sure she was blind now, his body blocking any chance of seeing what was going on above her.

There was nothing, just Jared over him, forcing Gen’s movements onto him, controlling him with an encircled wrist and perfect face and a gorgeous body and a soul brighter than the sun and a heart he longed to live inside. Jensen moved ever so slightly, turning his face into Jared’s hair and breathed his friend’s name. Not a real word, just a whispered prayer as Genevieve spread her knees and bowed her back, letting them both in as far as they could go, and his orgasm hurt just a little, echoing the pain in his head and heart, and Gen’s teeth scraping along his cock felt like something perfect, exactly what he deserved.

Jared groaned, right in his ear, and Jensen jerked away, fell back, and this time Jared let him go, bending over Gen, covering her almost completely, and, her mouth free now, she called out Jared’s name.

“Jay, Jay, Jared, oh my god, please, god, fuck, yes,” she babbled as she was pinned by his arms and pounded into the bed from behind. The words bled together into a low keen that ended in a tiny scream that were notes to an ancient song when accompanied by Jared’s growl. They were inches away from Jensen. Not even. He could feel the heat of Jared’s body all along his own. Genevieve’s hair was spilling over his arm as she bucked and twisted like she was trying to meld her small body into Jared’s, trying to wring every last drop of come from him. Right there with them, he was a universe away. Separate.

_It’s what I wanted, though, isn’t it?_

He had told Genevieve that she would marry Jared, that she would be faithful to him. That he would not come between them unless she gave him reason to. Jensen had hoped, he realised now, watching the lovers clutch at each other, panting in the afterglow, that maybe Jared would be the one to give reason, that he’d realise his mistake and would hold onto Jensen in that last moment.

_Stupid. Foolish. Unworthy, more than anything._

They were a glyph, Jared and Genevieve together, wrapped around each other, tangled, and Jensen knew he would never see them as anything else from now on. He had to, if he was going to be happy. It would never, ever, be just him and Jared again. It _had_ been, he knew that. From the moment he’d met the gawky, beautiful boy in the studio, they’d been attached at the hip, and Jared had been the one to sew himself to Jensen. He’d been there, body, mind, and heart, and Jensen had held every one of those things back while still holding on tight. Not giving, just taking, and no wonder Jared had cut the threads eventually. Jensen thought he’d been protecting Jared, but he’d only been hiding from himself.

Jared broke Jensen’s lament, kept his heart from tearing itself to shreds just in time, by tumbling over almost onto him. Jensen forced out a grumble, a weak laugh, scooting over to make room, lifting an arm behind his head which only left the whole side of his body in contact with Jared, who did not move away. Who, lying on his hip and shoulder, kept his arms around Genevieve, moving himself up just enough to lean over her. Jensen could hear him speaking but the words were lost. Jared was petting Genevieve, stroking her. Jensen couldn’t see her, but he could feel her; twitches that made the bed jump, soft sobs that made him bite the insides of his cheeks to hear, murmurs and hiccuped words that sounded half-mad, and Jared kept up his motion, soothing her until she went quiet, until her heels stopped digging into the bed. He shielded her from Jensen as she was promised it was all over.

 He heard that.

“Go get us some champagne, baby, huh?” Jared said, louder, his voice calm and so sweet. “And start a bath. I’ll be there in just a minute.”

Genevieve slipped out of bed, her head down, hiding her face in the dark cloud of her hair and she walked, just a bit off balance, hands down at her sides, fingers splayed out like whiskers on a cat, across the room and into the bathroom. It wasn’t until the door was closed behind her and water could be heard running in the tub that Jared lifted his head, looking over his shoulder at Jensen.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen said.

“Yeah?” Jared laughed the question. He rolled onto his back, and Jensen didn’t move when his friend laid on him for the moment it took to squirm around flat on the bed. “I’m not sure you’ve ever said that before. Was pretty sure you were perfect, to be honest.”

Jared was teasing him, but he wasn’t. He was telling him the truth, and it sealed Jensen’s fate. Confirmed his fears, and inflamed his self-hatred, and Jensen wished the fire could kill him. He wouldn’t always feel this way, he knew distantly. He had things to live for. He had Danneel. He still had Jared’s friendship. Hopefully. He could live with that. He had to. He wanted to. Anything, whatever Jared would give him, after this.

Genevieve reappeared from the bathroom. She cast the men a glance, and there it was, that resilience. Head up now, tears and sweat and spit splashed away, she gave them a lopsided smile and strode naked and sure-footed through the bedroom and out towards the kitchen.

“You should leave,” Jared said, and Jensen let his heart do what it wanted, and it screamed in agony _I-told-you-so_ and shoved tears into the corners of his eyes. One escaped, and Jared watched it trickle towards Jensen’s ear, then he carded his fingers through his hair and looked up at the ceiling.

“I love you,” Jensen said, surprised the words could squeeze themselves out around the lump in his throat, the vice in his chest, the shame at himself.

“I know,” Jared said. Then he smiled. To himself at first, then he turned to Jensen and gave it to him. “That’s twenty-three times you’ve said that.”

Jensen went the opposite way Genevieve had gone, tracking down his clothes. He waited until he heard her pad back to the bedroom before going to the kitchen in search of his underwear. It was mostly dry, still in the pile the three of them had made after the pool. He stuffed it in the pocket of his jacket and, Jared’s voice teasing a giggle from Genevieve in his ears, he left the house.

Snow was _tss_ -ing down around him, and he licked his lips as some melted there, tasting Jared and nothing else. Not hope or fear or longing. Only Jared, and the white, blank world around him seemed perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> This took me almost a year to write.  
> My undying gratitude to [grrlplay ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grrlplay)for her mad beta reading skills, and to [Addie_D_123 ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Addie_D_123/profile) for her critique and kind encouragement.


End file.
